


all your friends are sober (yeah we're getting older)

by icyvanity



Series: Pynch Week 2016 [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Glitter, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Morning After, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyvanity/pseuds/icyvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pynch Week Day 2: Morning After/Prom</p>
            </blockquote>





	all your friends are sober (yeah we're getting older)

“Parrish. Parrish, wake _up_.”

Adam’s dream—one that for once was not bordering on the edge of a nightmare of the horrors of the past year—was interrupted by an insistent voice and the sudden, repetitive jabs of fingers into the crevices of his body. He blearily opened his eyes to a very awake Ronan, whose hair—grown out as a ‘we survived’ sort of celebration—was sticking up in all directions, giving him the appearance of a mildly-annoyed hedgehog.

Adam snorted, too tired to keep himself from reacting to the ridiculousness of his boyfriend. Ronan’s wild eyes softened at the sound, and Adam felt his cheeks grow warm at the accompanying look he received.

Adam looked away—not to hide the way he felt, as he once would have—to the table next to the bed. Staring at the analog clock, Adam realized they weren’t in Ronan’s room at Monmouth Manufacturing; Ronan’s clock beside his own bed had been stolen by Chainsaw when she decided to make a nest in the rafters of his room. Rather, they were in one of the many spare bedrooms in Litchfield House. If Adam strained his ears, he could hear Cheng2’s upbeat pop music from the other side of the house.

“Is there a reason you woke me up at 3:20 on a Friday morning?” Adam asked propping himself up on his elbows; Ronan’s eyes dropped to his now bare chest, but the desire in his eyes was muted. He almost looked ashamed for a moment, as though he regretted waking Adam up at all on his day off. Adam wished he was able to sleep in, but his internal clock would have woken him up before any alarm would have—even considering Aglionby had cancelled classes for seniors that day.

“Why am I covered in glitter and tulle?” Ronan bit out, as though the combination injured him deeply. Adam glanced away from Ronan’s face to the rest of his body and burst out laughing, falling back onto the bed. Ronan’s bare chest—bare other than the glitter covering almost every inch of it—turned pink, a shade lighter than his face. “This isn’t funny, Parrish!”

Adam was still shaking with laughter, but he tried to sober himself as the events of the previous night came back to him.

Almost at the culmination of their time at Aglionby, the soon-to-be alumni decided to host the most extravagant prom in the school’s history. The theme took them back to the “good old days” of the roaring twenties—with enough gold, jazz, and flappers to make the night complete. Thankfully, due to the numerous donations from the wealthy families of the students, the dance was practically included in their tuition.

Blue had, after lecturing Gansey and Henry on the historical significance of flappers, come as one with the two of them—though in a dress she made herself in a particularly interesting shade of blue (which Ronan claimed matched his eyes). Adam’s promposal to Ronan was throwing the invitation onto his face while he lay on Adam’s bed in his apartment one day; Ronan accepted immediately.

However, none of this explained the various things covering Ronan now. He was clad only in his boxers and a gold tutu, while his bare skin was dotted with glitter of every color.

“Noah,” Adam offered at the same moment Ronan snarled, “ _Sargent_.”

Adam squinted, considering, and then nodded, “Blue.”

Ronan stood up suddenly; Adam had to hold back the laugh that bubbled to his lips at the sight. Ronan stood before him like a Roman warrior or a Greek statue, but the tutu threw off the look. He held up a hand—to make a statement or to wave, Adam didn’t know. He marched out of the room with clenched fists, and Adam heard his heavy footfalls all the way down the hallway.

Adam settled back in bed with his arms behind his head. He’d only closed his eyes for a moment when he heard Ronan returning, much quicker and quieter than he had left. When he walked through the door, he was notably missing the gold tutu, and his face was a mask of fear when he turned to face Adam.

“Didn’t go well?” Adam guessed.

“She was just laying between the two of them, with their heads on her. She flipped me a double-bird and pointed at me until I took it off,” Ronan said, though he sounded as though she had asked for his soul.

Adam chuckled, reaching out for Ronan’s hands. Upon getting them, he pulled Ronan forward until he was sprawled on the bed beside Adam once more, with his head resting on Adam’s chest.

“What did you learn from this experience?” Adam asked.

“Never underestimate Sargent,” Ronan replied, his voice muffled against Adam’s chest.

“Very good.”

Adam ran his fingers through Ronan’s short hair. He was almost positive Ronan had fallen asleep, so he was startled when Ronan spoke.

“Never let Sargent make me a drink _ever again_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [read on tumblr](http://lady-gryffindor.tumblr.com/post/148934833658/pynch-week-day-2)


End file.
